


First Defeat

by orphan_account



Category: Fallout: New Vegas
Genre: Angst, F/M, Songfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-26
Updated: 2015-08-26
Packaged: 2018-04-17 07:59:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 665
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4658826
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Inspired by First Defeat by Noah Gunderson</p>
            </blockquote>





	First Defeat

He's long forgotten what it's like to feel safe. You're always on edge in Vegas, waiting for that dagger to fall out of the shadows and stab you in the back. You're on top, and there are a hell of a lot of men at the bottom ready to take their moment in the sun. 

Yet here, in a room permeated by the heady scent of sex, he has never felt more at home. She looks up at him and smiles more genuine than he has ever been. She is honesty, and guarded innocence, and even in the dull light, she is beautiful. Her fingertips thread through his hair. He is enraptured. He forgets about the man he saw leaving this room only moments before his arrival, that she gets paid to make men feel like this. Her lips pressed against his taste like cactus flowers.

His name is the only one on those lips when she sings out a carnal melody sweeter than any song he's known, she tips over the edge, drags him with her, her voice is louder than a choir and she knows only one hymn. Benny. His heart pounds to the primal tune and his is but a quiet prayer. Theo.

She looks up at him and the lamplight sparks in her eyes. They rivet on him and his pulse stops dead. Free of the burlap sack, her hair spills across her face, like the way it slings when she tosses her head and pleads for him not to stop, oh God, don't stop. This is the first chance he's had to get a good look at her. He feels a slimy trail of tangible disgust run through his body when he recalls how his Great Khan associates had fondled her in her unconscious state and ripped at her clothes. 

“B-ben... Benny...” Terror is written in her face, terror and confusion and hurt like he's never seen. 

He talks, says something he's been turning over in his head for a few hours now, feels like he owes the formerly nameless, faceless Courier Six something. It's an impersonal explanation, one he knows is undeserving of her. There is a flash of confusion in her liquid eyes before it crumbles, gives way to shock, her lips part in a plea, 'Ben'-and her hair scatters across her face once more. She slumps back, and all he can imagine is the way she would throw herself back on the bed, breath coming in staccato spurts.  
But she isn't panting. She isn't breathing at all. 

The first traces of blood soak into the ground as he turns his back and orders the Khans to bury her. He doesn't dare look back, even knowing this will be the last time. 

His tongue pushes eagerly past her teeth, but she tastes of something sour and metal and he winces gently. She is thinner than before, painted with scars she hadn't had. He can't see her eyes in the darkness of his hotel room, but he knows they're harder, harboring little of the softness he remembers. Yet it's still her. He knows her by the way her fingers slide across his skin, when she sings the music only they knew. 

He was a fool to return, and a bigger fool to stay. But this is home. He can imagine nowhere else he belonged. His actions remain a quiet undertone to every word exchanged, he has suffered, she has suffered. He knows he can repent, if only he prays enough.

They are both satiated and sticky with sweat by the end. Her arm, slung carelessly over his stomach, peels away. Starched fabric hits him in the abdomen.

She doesn't have to say much. Doesn't say anything, just shoves his clothes into his arms and claims his lips one more time. After all their trials, their victories and defeats, they know each other well. Their bond is unspoken, unparalleled, and unsalvageable. They both know this will be the last time.


End file.
